The Taste of Magic
by 1Scarylady
Summary: Originally written for the Six Senses Challenge on Knickerweasels.  The young lady that Anders picks up in a bar turns out to have rather unusual tastes.   Rated M for sex and mild bondage/sexual roleplay.


**_AN: This was originally posted as an illustrated tale. I wrote it, and Little_Befu (Cave_Fatuam) did the awesome illustrations. If you wish to take a look at the illustrated version it is here: _**

**_http:/ peopleofthedas . dreamwidth . org / 15815 . html (just take the spaces out). _**

_-oOo-_

The man at the bar looked absurdly, ridiculously happy, considering the state of the ale he was drinking. The woman watching him took a sip from her own tankard, and winced. There were better pubs, for sure, but it couldn't be denied: the view in this one was good. Very good, actually.

It wasn't often you saw someone roaming around freely in mage robes, and even rarer to meet a man with the figure to look good in them. The beaming blond propping up the bar won on both counts. The Tevinter-style fur shoulder cape gave the illusion of wide shoulders but, looking at the strong column of his throat, there was a generous breadth of his own under there. The intricate belts strapped snugly round a trim waist. His face wasn't exactly hard on the eyes, either. Not that any of this was the important thing about him.

_Magic_, she thought, strolling over. _A tasty treat._

The mage turned as she approached, his grin widening even further. "Well, hello to you, dear lady. Would you care to join me in a sip of freedom?"

She smiled at him, preening slightly as his gaze travelled over her. It was clear he liked what he saw, and she returned the favour, allowing her eyes to roam appreciatively over him. Signals like these beat a thousand words.

"If the taste of freedom has put such a smile on your face, I'll drain the whole tankard." She leant on the bar facing him, slightly closer than was proper. "May I know your name, Ser Mage?"

"I am Anders, and charmed to meet such a lovely woman as yourself." He took her hand and kissed it with a flourish worthy of a courtier.

"Pleased to meet you, Anders, you may call me Judi." She reached out the hand he had kissed, and boldly tucked a stray lock of his long hair behind his ear. "So, what flavour of freedom are you offering me, master mage?"

His eyes glinted with amusement and flirtation, and he took the half step needed to bring him flush against her. His voice dropped to a husky register, sending a thrill down her spine. "I'll tell you what, why don't you try a sip, and see if you like it?" He dipped his head and kissed her, gently, but firmly, displaying no hesitancy. That was one of the good things about mages, they lacked social restraint. It made things so much easier.

"Mm, tastes delicious," she murmured.

"I was rather hoping you'd think so. May I suggest we go somewhere private, and enjoy a full measure together?"

"An excellent suggestion; I have a room upstairs. Shall we?" Judi led the way, making play with her hips. She had no need to turn in order to be certain he followed; she could already taste his presence on the back of her tongue.

At the door to her room she turned to him, the key poised over the lock. "You look like an adventurous man, Anders. Would you be willing to play my favourite game?"

His eyes lit up. "I love games. What did you have in mind?"

Her free hand stroked the fur cape of his robes. "I just love a good game of Mages and Templars. In fact, I even have some Templar robes and armour."

Anders rolled his eyes disparagingly. "That old chestnut? And here I was, expecting something saucy and new."

Her smile held enough mystery and promise to re-pique his interest. "Trust me, Anders; the way I play is… unusual."

_-oOo-_

The gear she donned for their game was certainly unusual. Full Templar armour was… problematic for such play, and it seemed she done this enough times to have made some very specific selections.

Judi had hidden in an adjoining room to change, so Anders couldn't be certain what layers she was wearing, but visible were the fitted, and rather splendid, robes worn by off-duty Templars in their trademark purple and yellow, topped by a very fine-looking etched breastplate of a type Anders vaguely remembered having seen once or twice on ceremonial occasions. It was much lighter and more ornate than the traditional, bulky version. She had eschewed tassets and pauldrons, but was wearing gauntlets to match the breastplate. Her long black hair was twisted up into a severe knot.

It had to be said, as Templars go, this one looked pretty tasty, and his interest, dulled by the wait, began to perk up again.

"Well, you look good enough to eat." He rolled off the bed he'd been lounging on, and moved to stand in front of her. "So, what's my role, then? Naughty apprentice?" He stroked a finger down her cheek. "Tied-up apostate at your mercy? I have to confess that one's not my favourite. Wicked maleficar?"

She caught his wrist in her gauntleted hand, stopping his caress. "Actually, none of them. You don't need to be anyone but yourself; a mage, with magic. We're told by the Chantry that magic is meant to serve man. I like to think it's meant to serve woman, too."

"Hmm." Her grip on his wrist was going to bruise later, but hey, what's the point of being a healer if you can't abuse your own power a little? "So I get to use magic to please the lady Templar, do I?" The idea was rather thrilling, now he came to think of it. Variety was definitely the spice of life and, out here in the real world, was Life in all its splendour. Anders never knew how long he had, before they found him again, and ignominiously dragged him back, so wasting opportunities to live… Well, it would be a shocking profligacy and he'd never forgive himself.

She released his wrist finally and instead cupped his head with metal fingers, drawing him closer. "You see, I love magic," she explained in a husky murmur, "you might not be a naughty mage, but I'm a bad, bad Templar who needs her fix. So, will you serve, as Andraste commands?"

Her mouth was very close to his now; he could feel her breath on his lips. "As my lady wishes." The instant he finished speaking, her mouth met his; he pulled just a pinch of power from the Fade and allowed it to play over his mouth – no specific spell or school, just raw power. Immediately she made a throaty sound and ran her tongue over his lips, as though trying to drink it in.

When they pulled apart she was gasping, but regained control quickly, the Templar mask back in place. "Very good," she said, with suitable hauteur. The act gave him a little thrill all of its own. "This breastplate has two buckles on each side. Every one of those earns you a buckle." She snapped open one of the bottom ones, leaving the straps dangling.

Anders felt his mouth widen into a smirk without any conscious volition; this was a _fun_ game. He slid a hand around the nape of her neck, where a few wispy hairs tickled his hand, and pulled her back in for another kiss. This time he reached for a little more power, expertly snagging what he needed and distributing it to his will; most poured from his mouth to hers, but he kept a little back to trickle out of his fingers, making those short hairs stand on end. She whimpered, almost sucking on his mouth, neck arched against the power. Another buckle earned, it seemed.

_-oOo-_

Sweet Andraste, he was _fantastic_. She couldn't remember anyone ever tasting so wonderful, and his control over his talent was phenomenal. She'd known he would taste good when she smelt his magic in the bar, chocolate and butterscotch, like walking into a sweet shop. But to have that delicious flavour pouring into her mouth, in combination with his own male sweetness, was overpowering. Her knees felt weak, but she had to stay in control. The game demanded it. Once again she withdrew, forcing her breathing back to normal.

Judi didn't speak this time, thankful that she didn't need to. Just slowly reached for the remaining lower buckle and snapped it open; no mean feat in gauntlets, but she'd had enough practice.

The confident, crooked smile facing her never wavered. His mocking eyes held a challenge. "It occurs to me, dear lady, that if we were to undo one more buckle, that breastplate of yours would hang at a rather uncomfortable angle." She raised an enquiring eyebrow, wondering where he was going with this. He drew her towards him, and already she could taste sherbet, fizzing on her tongue; Destruction magic. "So, how about I earn two buckles at once, hmm?"

_-oOo-_

Pushing against the boundaries was second nature; how could he resist? Anders reached for a specific measure of power, feeling it fizzle through him. Once he had claimed her mouth, he released her neck, reaching for those gauntleted hands with his. With his fingers laced through hers, he allowed the power to crackle from his hands and his mouth in the same moment. She gasped under his mouth, receiving it willingly, her metal fingers tightening, hurting his hands a little. He felt her sag slightly, and grinned against her mouth, holding her up by their entwined fingers. It seemed the lady_ really_ liked magic, and his body responded strongly to her pleasure.

This time he released her first, safely dissipating the remaining power back to the Fade, and feeling a surge of uniquely male triumph when she staggered slightly. The power play was incredibly hot, particularly against a Templar. Anders hardened even more at the thought; she had set the parameters for this game, and he was stealing it. _Fantastic_.

It took only a moment for her to regain control again; her chin came up and she regarded him steadily as she snapped the buckles. Really, her discipline was impressive; somewhere at the back of his mind a tiny idea was leaping up and down looking for recognition, but he was far too busy working out his next strategy to register it.

_-oOo-_

Judi knew she'd lost the initiative and had no intention of allowing that state of affairs to continue. She lifted the breastplate over her head and set it aside. This cocky mage needed to be taught a new trick. She lifted a gauntleted hand, faintly ludicrous against the soft, fitted robe she wore, but she needed them for the moment. One finger crooked, beckoning Anders forward; the slight strut in his walk mocked her.

"Now, I think we'd both be more comfortable if I could shed these gauntlets, don't you agree?" He reached for her, grinning, and she lifted her palm so that his chest ran straight into her heavy gauntlet. "Easy boy, I haven't told you how to earn them yet." His eyebrow rose comically, and she gave him a slow smile. "Your service is simple. You are going to hold the wrists of my gauntlets, and not let go. The power you just poured into me, you are going to produce again. Is that understood?"

"As my lady commands." The mockery was still apparent; time to see if she could even the score a little. The mage gripped her wrists, a tiny crease appearing for a moment between his brows, as he plunged into the Fade and returned with what was required. No need to fear a rip appearing, his touch on the other side was delicate, precise. Power crackled around her gauntlets, flooding her senses, fizzing and popping on her tongue with the taste of sherbet. Before it could carry her away, while she still had her wits, she reached for him; one hand cupped his waist and slid down to seize his buttocks, while the other pressed hard against the bulge under his robes. Power crackled from him, to her and back into him, and in the precise moment he groaned she covered his mouth, claiming him. He writhed under her hands, muffled noises escaping their kiss, and she clamped down harder on his lips, controlling him.

His grip on her wrists was tight, and his power never faltered; it poured through her gauntlets as she rubbed him through the heavy robes, her other hand digging hard into his firm arse, holding him still. Only when she felt him sag, his knees giving out under him, did she release him, and order him to stop. The last of the power dissipated, but he still gripped her wrists, panting. It seemed likely it was the only thing preventing him from dropping to his knees.

_-oOo-_

Anders held on grimly to his metal anchor, fighting for self-control. Through the fog in his mind he heard her murmur, "Very good, my mage, but you must release me if you wish to claim your reward."

He huffed a faint laugh through panting breaths. "I'd love to, dear lady, but I suspect my hands may be welded to the metal by now." Nevertheless he peeled them away, and stepped back, forcing his knees to obey him. Oh, she was going to pay for that little turnaround, but, by Andraste's soggy gusset, it was good. He throbbed with need, watching as she slowly pulled off the gauntlets.

The very instant they crashed to the floor, Anders snagged her around the waist and pulled her back in fast, bringing them chest to chest. "I think I'll claim that snazzy robe now," he smirked against her mouth and reached into the Fade for a measure of Entropy. She flinched slightly, hands pushing against him in an automatic reaction_. So, she has some idea what I'm doing. Now isn't _that _interesting. _As the spell flowed from his mouth to hers she moaned, sagging against him. She'd be dizzy for a little while, not hurt or incapacitated, just muzzy, a little drugged. _Long enough to get this damn robe off, rather than waiting on her pleasure._

Anders drew the kiss out, enjoying her softened mouth, his fingers reaching for the buttons down the front of her ornate Templar robe. They parted, one by one, the creamy silk of her voluminous shirt coming into view. The robe had a heavy padded yoke, to support a breastplate, and once the buttons were undone, it slid to the floor of its own accord, pulled by the top-heavy weight. The shirt it revealed was long and full, the fine silk clinging to her breasts and fluidly obscuring everything else. A typical shirt for a plate-wearer, designed to avoid leaving fibres in an arrow wound; he'd cleaned out enough wounds to know how important that was.

The residue of the spell he'd cast had made his lady Templar languorous, pressing against him as he kissed her, his hands roaming over thin silk, feeling the warmth of skin beneath. She wasn't wearing anything else, no breastband or knickers; he dropped his head to her breast, mouthing it through the thin silk, hearing her whimper. The last wisps of the spell should be dissipating about now; his time at the helm was ending. Anders knew he could keep her like this a long time if he wished, but that would be no fun at all. Instead he lifted his head from her breast and smiled at her. "Your move, Ser Templar," he murmured.

_-oOo-_

Judi shook her head to clear it of the last vestiges of Entropy, the taste of liquorice still lingering on her tongue. She didn't begrudge him his triumph at all; it was invigorating to play the game with such a skilled mage, and such a beautiful one. Perhaps it was time to see more of him. "Well, aren't you a naughty boy?" She ran a finger across his smirking mouth, and gave his cheek a light slap. "Wicked mages don't get rewards, so this time the rules change. This time you are going to provide me with pleasure, and then I'll tell you what _my_ reward for it is."

"You're a hard woman." The sexy warmth of his smile robbed his words of any bite, and his hands were already moving over her body. Unfocussed magic, his own personal brand of chocolate and butterscotch, danced on the light silk of her shirt, while his mouth trailed more power down her throat. The combination of the touch and the taste were intoxicating; his hands moved over her breasts, the silk no real barrier at all, and when he pinched her nipples a zap left his fingers, even as the warm flavours in her mouth were tinged with sherbet. She whimpered, her body begging where she would not, arching towards him, desperate for more. She felt his chuckle against her throat as he provided a second jolt, just enough to tease, before moving his hands lower. As she had done to him, one hand moved firmly to the juncture of her thighs, still through the silk of her long shirt, while the other gripped her rounded bottom.

She felt him draw the power, the sharp, clean scent of lemons, and the Creation magic that flowed into her was warm and drowsy, flooding through her. She folded her arms around his neck without conscious volition, moulding herself against him, lulled by the dreamy pleasure. He lifted his head from the thorough exploration of her throat and kissed her hard, a shocking contrast to the languor infusing the rest of her being. She had no defence against it, her mouth soft and accepting under his, allowing him to plunder as he willed. Judi couldn't say how long they kissed; it was a dream of indolent warmth and surrender led by the flow of lemon-scented magic into her core. When Anders finally pulled away, she clung to him, not wanting it to end, her eyes half-lidded with sleepy desire. His withdrawal from her embrace was gentle, but final, and she reluctantly accepted it.

She licked her lips, capturing the final taste, and used the mental discipline learnt long ago to throw off the residual lethargy. "That was handsomely done, ser mage." Her voice was husky, but she seemed to have everything else under external control, at least, although secretly she still yearned for more. "And now, it's time for my reward. You will strip for me; take those pretty robes off, nice and slow." She sat on the edge of the bed to watch the show.

_-oOo-_

Anders thought for a moment, watching her lounge on the edge of the bed. Stripping was no problem for him, the exhibitionist in him thrilled at it already, wanting to make it as titillating as possible. He had to use magic; although she hadn't said so, that was the rule of the game, right? Right. She wanted nice and slow? No problem. The spell would have to be carefully cast; he didn't want all the effects, just one. He reached into the Fade, seeking and grasping the power he needed; as he did so, Judi licked her lips. It didn't particularly surprise him.

Entropy always had to be carefully woven, and never more so than for a reduced effect. Once it was cast however, he could ignore it, get on with the show. The air around him thickened to treacle, dense but not suffocating. He moved his arm experimentally, and it was like pushing through water. Perfect.

Anders reached for the clasp of his fur-trimmed cape, keeping his movements precise so that he didn't fumble in the thick air. He kept his eyes fixed on her face as he unclipped each hook and then allowed the cape to slip away; so long as he kept hold of it, the fabric continued to move slowly, sliding off his shoulders. He grasped it in one hand and unhurriedly stretched that hand out away from his body. The moment he released the cape, it dropped to the floor _fast_. She smiled wickedly, enjoying the contrast, and a slow smirk widened his face in response. This was _fun_. And hot. After so many, many stints of sensation and withdrawal he was now in a state of slow burn; achingly unstoppable, but in no hurry at all.

He used his teeth to undo the buckles of his fur-lined bracers, gripping each one in a savage little gesture, still watching her every moment. He threw each one away, so they flew across the room the moment he released them. He renewed the spell and watched her suck it in with a knowing little grin. He had her measure now. The long belt that wrapped twice around him stroked around his hips as he pulled on it, and curled in the air towards her when he snapped it free, so slowly she would have no difficulty avoiding it. Instead she snagged the end as it snaked towards her face, pulling him closer. She hauled him in until he was directly in front of her, looking down as she looked up, his hands reaching for the hooks down the front of his robe.

"Boots first," she ordered and he kicked them behind him; they rolled into a corner once they left the soupy air around his body, leaving his feet bare.

"Start at the bottom," she commanded, and he obeyed, reaching for the lowest hook. As each one came free her hand trailed over the exposed skin. His calves, thighs and hips received her touch and she looked up at him, amused. "No smallclothes? Wicked man." Her face was closely adjacent to his groin and he swallowed hard, feeling her breath upon him. The very end of her tongue lightly touched his tip and his hands stopped at the next hook, his eyes closing. Judi withdrew slightly and tutted briskly. "Did I tell you to stop? For that you need to offer me some more magic. Tell me; can you only channel through your hands and mouth? Or are you_ really_ talented?"

_-oOo-_

The question caught him off-guard, all his attention on the sensation of her soft tongue. His eyes snapped open, and a crooked smile dawned. "Devious woman; I'm ashamed to have to admit, I've never tried." A crease appeared between his brows as he thought about it; this may require a small amount of cheating to work, but was certainly worth a try. Anders worked the last couple of clasps and flung the robe away. "What flavour would Madam Templar desire?"

A bold move as it demonstrated the root of her unusual desires, but she took it without a blink, bless her kinky little heart. "Your own delectable blend will suffice, I think." Additional heat flared at the thought that she found him delicious, and he allowed her to draw him forward, closer to those tempting lips. As she opened her mouth to swipe her tongue over him, Anders grasped himself loosely at the base, allowing the magic to flow through his hand from root to tip. The combination of warm power and hot tongue was exquisite, and her greed inflamed him. Her tongue licked and swirled over him as if he was a scrumptious candy-cane and he revelled in the sensation, keeping the flow of magic to a slow trickle, making her work for it.

Only when her hot mouth engulfed him did he reward her with more, groaning as she immediately took him deeper, seeming to try to draw the power out of him with her efforts. With his spare hand he drew the pins out of her hair, coaxing the heavy bun to uncoil, so that he could twist the silky strands around his fingers; holding her back from doing too much too soon, wanting to draw this out as long as possible. Under this gentle control her mouth softened, became less demanding; soft heat combined with gentle rasp of tongue keeping him teetering on the right side of the edge. Her fingers quested behind his tightened sac, rubbing against the very root of him and he began to unravel. His self-control failed on two fronts at once, power pouring out first and causing her to greedily chase it down, creating a cascade of release, magic and seed jetting together as he cried out. Her hands moved to his arse, pulling him forward ever further as he began to soften, seeking the last of the tasty treat before reluctantly withdrawing.

_-oOo-_

_If all cocks tasted like this, we girls would never let the menfolk rest. _

The slightly bitter taste of semen was completely drowned in the sweetness of chocolate and butterscotch, and Judi was still savouring it when another flavour hit her tongue. Ginger was recognised at the same instant that telekinetic force grabbed her and threw her back onto the bed, hauling her full-length on the mattress. She bit down on the instinct to reject the spell as she felt it coil around her wrists and ankles, holding her in place. There was no reason yet to see this as a threat; Anders was smiling down at her with all the wicked mischief of a man who has just turned the tables _yet again_.

"Surprised? _This_ trick I learnt some time ago." He crawled on the bed with prowling grace, holding himself above her, his crooked smirk as warming as the taste of ginger. "I think it's your turn, Ser Judi." His mouth trailed down over her throat, the crackle of power in its wake, the fizz of sherbet mixing with the heat of ginger and she gasped in response.

"Do you want to know the really clever bit?" he murmured against the hollow in her throat. Judi was having a little difficulty answering; the trickle of magic from his mouth combined with warm lips was making it a shade difficult to think. Also, the magical forces holding her arms above her head made her feel so out of control, it was such a truly unusual sensation for her. Fortunately he didn't seem to need a response to continue. "The really clever bit," he said, lifting her back off the bed slightly and tugging up the voluminous silk shirt, "is that these bonds don't stop clothes coming off."

Anders stripped the shirt over her head and threw it away; bending his head immediately to her breast, the swipe of his tongue trailing sparks. She arched up, silently pleading for more, as that damned smirking mouth withdrew just barely out of reach. If she struggled against the bonds, then they tightened slightly with a whiff of ginger. The fact that she could escape them completely, if she wished, was quite beside the point. Only once she subsided did he return to his task, sucking, nibbling and licking each nipple while a trickle of sherbet-flavoured magic drove her crazy with desire. Any time she chased more sensation, he withdrew, refusing her until she submitted again. After several minutes of this kind of treatment she was writhing with need, willing to agree to just about anything if he'd only continue. The bonds holding her legs apart were driving her insane; if she could get just the slightest friction, anything, then she'd get her release just from his attentions to her breasts, but his body was carefully lifted above hers, providing nothing and she couldn't even press her legs together.

When he relented enough to trail his tongue down over her belly, she nearly wept with relief, hips rising in offering, but still he teased her, trailing warm, wet magic everywhere except where she needed it. Eventually he lay at the bottom of the bed, head between her legs, just watching her, waiting for her to settle. She had no option but to surrender, knowing he would provide nothing more until she did. When her hips relaxed back to the bed and her movement was reduced to a mild quivering, Anders finally rewarded her; his tongue providing the merest whisper of contact between her legs. In this way, the game continued; if she obediently kept still, she received his mouth, slowly providing more and more of the pressure she craved, magic crackling gently at the tip of his tongue. It became a test of her self-discipline, to accept and enjoy in absolute stillness, heightening every scrap of sensation to the utmost.

When she finally began to master the art, exchanging rigidity for relaxation without squirming or writhing, she felt him smile against her and his voice murmured through her core, "Good girl." Without raising his head, his hands snaked over her stomach to her breasts and reached for her nipples, trails of magic flowing in their wake. As clever fingers tweaked and rubbed and lightly scratched at tender flesh, she was forced to reach for that passivity all over again, fighting on two fronts; the desire to arch her back as strong as the urge to buck her hips. Judi was growing increasingly sensitive, sensation flowering through her. She was so close, and terrified that if she moved he'd stop, but how was she to stay still through orgasm? Even that thought brought her closer and she bit down on her lip with a strangled cry. She felt him chuckle against her and suddenly, startlingly, her limbs were released from their bonds, giving her tacit permission to move. She gave a thankful gasp, nerves flooding with pleasure, the ability to writhe freely a joy in itself, an abandon previously taken for granted. Clever hands and wicked mouth stepped up their efforts, taking her that final step and, as she tipped over, chocolate and butterscotch flooded her taste-buds as he poured magic into her, so that her orgasm seemed never to end.

Before she could even begin to recover, to regain her unravelled thoughts, he grabbed her hips and flipped her over, pulling her back towards him on her elbows and knees. She could tell from where he pressed against her that he was ready again, teased to attention by the way he'd dominated the last round of the game. Sweet Andraste, he was good at this, the best player she'd ever encountered, and it wasn't over yet. He nudged against her wetness, presumably once again with his hand around his base, as she could feel the soft, languorous, lemony warmth of rejuvenation flooding into her, renewing her energy and enthusiasm.

He slid into her beautifully, her slick readiness welcoming him all the way to the hilt and she heard him groan. Judi dipped and arched her torso just_ so_, angling him where she wanted him, and he allowed her to set the initial pace; short, sinuous movements that gave her all the internal friction she needed. His hands roved over her back, providing gentle tingling warmth and she whimpered, one cheek pressed to the mattress, her bottom high, feeling him move within her. So soon after climaxing from so much external stimulus, she wasn't going to take long this time. She was so sensitive, aware of every ridge and curve rubbing and nudging her inner walls, right there… _there._ Her short, controlled movements changed to involuntary, shuddering spasms, and he held her hips while she rode the wave to a finish.

_Liquorice_-

_Paralysis_-

She could still feel everything, but she couldn't move, act or speak. Anders began to move within her, slowly at first and then building momentum, hips circling and dipping to give him the finest possible friction. When he spoke, his voice was ragged, but very clear. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you, my dear, but I really can't risk leaving it any later. Did you think I hadn't realised?" His pace picked up as he gripped her hips tighter; not that anything he did could cause her to fall away from his ministrations. She was rigidly held, feeling every bit of him and, despite the sudden danger, still loving it. "Only Mages and Templars sense magic the way you do, and it's obvious you're no Mage." He huffed a small laugh, in-between panting breaths, "If you'd been stationed at the Circle I might have been tempted never to leave because, by the Maker, you are one _fine _and_ kinky_ woman. But I'm not going back." He was swelling within her, his pace fast and hard, and he still felt _fantastic_. She wished she could react; the inability to even make a sound was agonizing. He came in the next heartbeat, buried deep inside her, a wild noise escaping him. He took a moment to recover, then gently disengaged.

Liquorice in her throat as he renewed the spell. "I wish you could have been free for the finale, Judi. But you're a Templar, and however much I admire you, I can't trust you. I didn't fancy being hit with a Smite while I was helpless, and bundled back to prison."

She could hear him moving around the room, dressing swiftly. Then he returned to the bed and carefully rolled her on her side. She felt the scratch of wool as he pulled a blanket over her. Liquorice again; he wasn't taking any chances. A kiss was pressed to the back of her neck, and a hand smoothing over her hair. "I just need a five minute head start," he said, and then he was gone.

_-oOo-_

Ser Rylock tapped her hand impatiently on the wall, waiting for the final member of her team to return. Ser Judith was long overdue, but she was also their best magic-sniffer by a long chalk. No-one else she had ever met could pick a mage out as easily as she did. If the apostate Anders was in this town, Judith would find him.

The jingle of mail and plate made her turn, relaxing as she saw the tall woman, perfectly groomed as always, coming towards them. "Ser Judith, I was beginning to wonder if there'd been trouble. Did you find any sign of him?"

The dark-haired Templar shook her head, a slightly rueful smile on her face. "Not even a nibble."


End file.
